Pretty, Pretty
by ReddAlice
Summary: Duo is left mute and hanging onto the silk threads of his sanity to stay near those who love him (a Chinese pilot in particular) after an unfortunate incident which could have been resolved cleanly had Heero (the other man) been able to control his temper


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**Warnings**: None so far, it's just the prologue!! GAH! Sorry guys, I will get back to Name Me Your God after a finish my new fic, TROWA POV. For now, I will have to satisfy you with already written things that don't take any real brain power!! 

**Pretty, Pretty.**

-By ReddAlice

=PROLOGUE=

**Author's Note**: Ya' know.. I don't know if I am even going anywhere with this, I don't really like it. Anyone have any ideas? Keep in mind, I request that people please review, say whatever, and do so with whatever work they read on AFF.net. Writers are a big part of a fic community, but it'd be nowhere without the readers WHO REVIEW! lol

_LUFF GUYS!_

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There had never been a time for him when war wasn't burning down the walls of his mind. He was always fighting, always running, always..._killing_. Duo stuffed his hands into his pockets and drudged forward in the snow, people parted around him, their umbrella's swarming above like the black clouds over head, and then he was swallowed in the mob again.

This time of year, especially, Duo felt particularly interjected. He dreaded the cold sweat chilling his body Christmas night, and the horrible images that would linger in his eyes afterwards, over laying passing faces, and drowning out the world around him. His childhood was nothing but a reoccurring nightmare, worse every time he thought about it.

When all you have is nothing but your pride and will to go on, and then even that is shredded and peeled away from your body like a young prostitutes clothes, you tend to go a little numb. Somehow, that time when he lived day-to-day, bruised and bleeding under his shirts, it didn't seem so difficult. He muted the sounds, and continued on like his life was on fast forward; but when you relived it in your sleep, every agonizing decision was scrutinized for your viewing displeasure.

The snow came to a startling halt, a phenomenon that was unique to the colonies, and the sun began to shine. Duo looked up, his bangs falling away from his soft pensive eyes. It was the same cold counterfeit sky that had stretched over him crying, laying in the debris of St. Maxwell's, his sullen body curled into the cold curve of Sister Helen's charred corpse. A thousand feelings rushed at him, and he felt a pang of jealousy near his throbbing heart. The kids he protected with his body, the jigsaw piece family that had adopted him, they where allowed to die there, they missed the worse of the war, and would forever remain young, naïve, and uninvolved.

Duo scooped up a handful of snow to ease his clammy hands, the genuine chill seeping straight into his veins and jarring his mind. Where was he supposed to go now?

"_Hey mister_?"

Blinking, Duo followed the sound of the voice to a young boy standing in the access of an alley. He was slightly dirty, his eyes wild, dark, and mused. His hair was long, brown, and neatly plaited down to the small of his back.

"Hey, _mister_?" The boy gesture for him to come closer, but his body wouldn't move he felt like a wax doll over a candle...melting. "Mister, can you spare a minute?"

An older man pushed by Duo, and the spell vanished. Can you spare a minute? How many times had he said that? Duo starred nauseated at the empty impression in the snow, two sunken and small footprints. He wished he hadn't sobered up.

***

Quatre held the small entry pole near the door of the chocolate shop and swung onto the sidewalk. "Hi, _Wufei_!" He said nodding, no sleep, and Christmas shopping always put him in an intensely frivolous mood.

"Oh, hello, Quatre." Wufei gave him a semi curt very-Wufei-ish-nod-of-'friendly'-acknowledgement.

"I didn't expect to see anyone on L2, thought everyone would be h-" Quatre caught himself quickly, but the silence finished the sentence for him. He was going to say: thought everyone would be home celebrating Christmas, then he remembered, Wufei didn't have a home anymore. Then again neither did Heero, Trowa, and Duo, but they all had respectable places to go to this time of year. Or so he assumed...

If the not spoken words afflicted him, his dark naturally morose eyes didn't show it. "I had a little shopping of my own to do." He supplied.

Curiosity groped at him, "For whom?" Again, he regretted the words. For whom? No one. Other than his comrades Wufei had no one.

Wufei raised an eyebrow at the hurt expression on Quatre's face, and simple said. "For myself."

"Oh, that sounds fun." Quatre recovered, "I'm just finishing up my shopping for my sisters, and then I have to catch an afternoon shuttle back to L4. We always have our dinner the 23rd of December, that way they can come home, and share Christmas with their immediate siblings, and then spend Christmas with their husbands, girlfriends, friends, and children." Quatre listed.

Wufei nodded and began walking again, his hands loosely at his sides, swaying with the motion of his slow stride. "I see."

"_Hey_-.."

Wufei stopped and looked at him.

"Why don't you come with me and get a cup of coffee-...or tea..." He said at the look of distaste on Wufei's face, "and we can make some plans for later this week. You know..." Again, Wufei just looked at him, "For Christmas."

"I really have things to do, Quatre." Wufei replied beginning to turn away.

Quatre's mind raced, how could he be so cruel and then allow Wufei and his friends to spend Christmas alone. "Duo'll be there!" And those where the magic words, for Wufei's eyes became very animated as they fixed Quatre with his patented lie-detector look. Wufei and Duo where best friends, but it was in the air when Wufei was trying to look at him discretely, that he was sorely in love with the chestnut colored braid, and the person who's leash it could become. "What kind of tea do you like? Wasn't it that dragon well tea?"

Wufei nodded, his facial expression returning to it's normal fixed look. "Yes, it's called _Longjing _tea."

"_Where _could we get _that_?" Quatre pondered, making sure to make a mental note to have some ordered and brought to the house for Christmas.

***

Heero stared at his laptop monitor, his eyes following lines of binary codes, and fragments of links.

Duo Maxwell...

***

Duo's joints locked and he stumbled down onto steps of a near by apartment building. A few people glanced at him, one of which was an older woman, sneering at his awkward predicament. Sliding down against the brownstone wall, Duo slid into the corner and down into the snow.

The wetness soaked into his slacks, leaving his thighs icy and numb. What was he going to do? Could he survive another Christmas? Duo drew his knees in, wrapping his arms around his legs, and tucking his chin into his chest. Could he do this again, alone?

Thoughts swarmed just outside of his consciousness, he'd been outside in the snow since before dawn and now it was ebbing around dusk, the sky becoming systematically darker by the minute.

How many people where out there like him? An orphan of family, an orphan of war...

The world around him was beginning to take on a shadowy frame of exhaustion, his head becoming light and detached. What was he going to do with himself? This whole situation was pathetic. He was pathetic.

Duo's eyes closed, a wave of warmth allowing his body to relax against the stoop. God, he was just so drained...

***

Ever since that moment when their lips met briefly, Heero found himself obsessed with knowing what made Duo himself. He wanted to know about every run in with the police, and each and every scar on his small taunt body.

Heero wasn't insensitive; he was just apart from his emotions on a day-to-day basis. He had to be...to be able to do what he did. However, when he was in Duo's embrace the night before, he didn't know what to do. He wanted to cry with his trembling comrade, he felt the need to gather him in his arms and comfort him, but he couldn't, and he didn't. Duo didn't care though, he just held onto him, his face buried in the crook of Heero's neck.

The moment had stretched on for a short 15 minutes, before Duo pulled away and cocked he head up. "Can't beat drunken stupidity." He said, his words a little slurred, as he rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

Duo had been gone for a few days, he hadn't informed anyone of his whereabouts, and he just left; then came back drunk and disheveled, his body shaking with tears. Having remembered Duo's uninformed absence, he had gotten angry and turned him out. "Don't come back here inebriated, and unable to explain yourself." He ushered him out into the hall, and shut the door, it was three in the morning, he had expected Duo to come back after he sobered up and make some wise crack about Heero's mother-like concerns. But...he hadn't, and he still wasn't back yet 19 hours later.

Heero tried to remember a time when he had seen Duo in shambles like that, but there had never been a time when Duo wasn't...Duo. Then again, how many Christmas's out of the three years they had known each other had Duo spent with anyone. None. What was so awful about Christmas?

***

"I love Christmas." Quatre said breaking the silence as Wufei and him walked out of the oriental coffee shop, their warm cups in hand. "It's the only time of year when I feel like everything has gone back to normal."

Wufei glanced at him through the corner of his eye, and walked on quietly.

"You know what?"

A smile was pulling at his lips, he had gone out to gather a few supplies for his painting, and found himself in good company. Even when being serious, Quatre's ordinary glow was enough to chase away anyone's inner demons.

His mind drifted from the conversation to his painting. Something that he did often when he was alone, regardless of his studious nature, he could not snuff out the artist inside.

"_What _do you think?" Quatre was beaming, his ideas for Christmas bubbling inside his head, it would be their first Christmas altogether as a group. Maybe Trowa would come, though Quatre was pretty sure he had obligations with Cathy this year, like last year and the year before.

Wufei looked up confused, "About what?"

The corners of Quatre's lips turned up, "About the Christmas party." Quatre continued talking as if Wufei had been listening. "How many days until Christmas? Well...everyone can come over and stay the night Christmas Eve...this Friday." Today was Wednesday. "I know where Heero is, Trowa is at Cathy's...Duo...Ah...You know, I have no idea. Heero'll probably know."

Wufei nodded.

Something caught Quatre's eye, a huddled mass of limbs in a corner next to the huge cement steps of a brownstone apartment building. Digging in his pocket he grabbed the change he had gotten from his and Wufei's drinks and began to walk over.

"_Don't_." Wufei said grabbing his arm, "not everyone is so grateful for handouts. To some.." He said sounding years older, "it's an insult. So don't add _insult _to _injury_."

Quatre's lips thinned, "If it was me...I wouldn't find it insulting."

"If it was _me_.." Wufei rebuked, "I'd be cross."

Stuffing the money back in his pocket, they crossed the street and headed towards a large antique's store.

**TBC...**

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**Ending Note**: I don't know how I feel about this story, it has many possibilities but I don't know if I can do it justice. No pressure on this one, I don't know I'll continue it.  We'll just have to see.

--I welcome all reviews!! Please feel free to be honest, and if you have a few pointers or corrections share them! I am very grateful to all of those who have helped me in the past. Thank you, much! 


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